The Most Aggravating Person in the World
by JasperK
Summary: There are some times when someone annoyes you that much. (Oh, but did you ever stop to ask exactly why?) Vash, Meryl so far... (and now Wolfwood, Milly) Massive Manga Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Huge Manga spoilers. Trigun Vol 1 – Trigun Maximum vol 14

(This covers the possibility that I might do them all)

* * *

**Prologue  
**

"The most aggravating person? Meryl. Oh man, no one could ever get under my skin quite like she can!"

"Not Wolfwood?"

"Well, he pissed me off sure enough, but I could clobber him. It's not done to hit a lady."

"Yet you and her…"

"He He. There are more ways than fighting to vent frustrations."

* * *

"The most aggravating person? That Broom Headed Idiot!"

"Yet, you and him…"

"Still find new ways to aggravate each other. It keeps things interesting."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Spoilers galore: Trigun Vol 1

It was when he felt the water seep through the cloth on his sleeve that Vash realized his mistake. When he had first crouched in the barrel and it had been empty. He'd checked. But now that he watched the slow trickle of water drip down the inflow pipe, he realized that there was no way out of this predicament but to reveal that he was there. He shifted his arm away from the inflow and tried to squeeze his elbow dry. There were too many people around the outside of the barrel, and she was right there too. That very annoying short woman.

From his, now damp, vantage point he could see all the trees the geoplant allowed to grow, feeling a delight in his heart for how much hard work the old couple had done in cultivating it all. He had wanted to help defend the place, but that short little woman had told him very firmly that he was not needed. It had hurt. However, there was something in her eye as she had said it, that had made him climb into the barrel, rather than walk back to the hotel. A hidden defiance, as if it was not that he was not needed, but that she hated the idea of ever needing his assistance. Well that rubbed him up the wrong way in every manner he knew. He would not confront her, he recognized there was enough pain inside not to want to go there, but he would help her. He sat and waited in the damp barrel, the time would come.

The first time he had ever seen the short woman was when she relayed the most wonderful news. The Feds had revoked the $$60 billion bounty. He had thought her the most beautiful person on the planet! She was so cute and little and had handed him his freedom. The relief that had run through him! The thrill he had felt. He had been too excited to contain himself and had bounded around ecstatically, until she, that beautiful woman, had poked him in the chest. The expression on her face should have been enough of a warning.

She had then pronounced the sentence that derailed his life.

He sourly considered this as he felt the coolness of the water in the bottom of the barrel through his boots. His feet would stay dry the boots were good. Yow, but the water must be icy for him to feel such coldness through the layers of leather, metal and socks.

That short woman had declared that she had to follow him. To escort him like a child. As if he could not look after himself. He had never been so insulted. Did they not realize that the only reason disaster followed him was because of the bounty they had removed? Well there were a few other incidents, which could be overlooked, but mostly it had been that. He had only agreed because she and that willowy partner of hers had taken out the bad guy in short order. He had thought it prudent as well as polite not to aggravate the ladies who could dispatch their foe with such violent elegance.

Now, that beautiful little woman had become the bane of his life! What was he to do with her prying into his every move? He had not been able to eat lunch without her presence. Those had been some excellent salmon sandwiches. She had called him soft hearted, which he did not entirely resent, but coming from her made him want to suddenly show her his mastery and manliness. But just then he'd discovered a tiny tacking device in his sandwich. The bloody cheek of it all! They really didn't trust him. Well, payback was sweet; he had dropped the portion for the cat to eat. He had been munching a bite when she had dropped the even bigger bombshell that they were to track him for all their time in office. The delicious salmon sandwich had suddenly tasted like ashes in his mouth. He had felt sludgy dread fill his stomach. She looked, what, nineteen, and an office girl with a quick draw like she had could last another forty years, if she was careful. No, that was not happening. Fortunately, the arrival of the Sand Steamer had given him the distraction he needed. He slunk out of the diner then had legged it back to his lodgings.

Now that he reflected on it, all the bad luck the bounty had brought him had merely dissipated into smaller incidents of unhappy encounters. The insurance girls were the first. Then just as he had bought a ticket on the Sand Steamer, one of the children he had spent playing with had yelled his name for everyone in the street to hear, including the Caravan Director, the guys wanting to party, and the two very annoying insurance girls. He had enjoyed the party, though there had been some charming young buck who had spent the evening keeping the girls entertained. It had not bothered him at the time, but now he wondered what the short girl had spent the evening smiling at him for.

Oh man, the barrel must have some sort of timer switch, as it was slowly filling. He could smell the scent of fresh water. It was icy. His toes were beginning to go numb as the water lapped over them. He had thought he would have ditched them on the Sand Steamer, but ran into them with unfortunate precision when he had had to buy extra snacks. He considered the tall one for a moment, she was dilly, but had an uncanny ability to get right to the truth of things without being aware of it. He would really have to watch himself around her. He wondered how the small woman managed to keep her composure around her tall partner; she seemed to have troubles of her own, and clearly did not appreciate them being called out into the open. She would not have been so dismissive tonight if it were any other way. Perhaps he should keep an eye on the tall one; she might be the key to the short one.

She had impressed the hell out of him, holding Brilliant Dynamites Neon to gunpoint. Her timing was impeccable and her directness in lecturing the gang leader was excellent. He had almost gone back to thinking her beautiful. However, she had turned directly to him and lectured him as if he were a wayward child. Her manner simply riled all his admiration for her right out of him. He did not know what he had been thinking letting them accompany him to Little Arcadia. He'd wanted to find a peaceful place, out of the way, where nothing would happen to him. Oh. Yes. He knew why he had let them come now.

He took a deep breath. The water smelled so fresh. His ankles were getting colder and colder as the level in the barrel rose. Yes. He had, in a moment of weakness, let them accompany him. He had spent the entire day thinking of Rem. It was not that often that he actually dreamed about her, though she was constantly in his thoughts. That had been the most heart breaking thing about it all, he had for a few seconds of unconscious delusion, thought himself back home with her. Ah no. It was making him cry now too. He wiped his eyes. He had craved company then, and the insurance girls, as annoying as they were, were company.

Then the incident in the street had happened right in the peaceful town. He had only inadvertently been protecting people, and the short delicate little woman had charged out behind him and punched him in the back. From the bruises he felt now he realized the big girl must also have lent her power as there were two spots on his back that ached. They ached worse for being in a slowly chilling barrel of water. He had bloodied his nose too, though that had cleared, but his mounting aggravation had not. The other reason he had allowed the girls to accompany him was that he owed them. Their intervention on the sand steamer had allowed him to divert the gang to his way of playing. Yet what he had to put up with while working out a solution to it all! The old couple he had protected had treated them to a morning snack, and had clearly found the girls charming. He had been too irritated to pay much attention to what they were saying, though he had caught the tall one creating some interesting malapropisms. He would have to listen more closely in the future, as that sort of malady could be quite amusing.

Then the short girl had exploded while the old couple were complimenting him, and asking him to be their bodyguard. She had volunteered herself and her partner for the very job they had turned down seconds before. He had been rather stunned. Was she so eager to keep him out of trouble? It was strangely cute and very annoying at the same time. Who was she that she thought she could wrap him in cotton wool and keep the world safe from him, or was it him safe from the world? He pondered which it was as he heard raised voices outside the barrel. He peeked out, the big girl was yelling at the young man who had started all the trouble that morning. He had missed the first part, but he had clearly said something bad as she socked him.

Things quieted down after everyone had gone inside. Then there was an explosion and gunfire, as the rest of the young man's gang had arrived. He let the barrel lid fall shut and had tried to track the rounds coming from each of the guns used, but he peeked out again when he heard the two girls near him.

As he was watching, he saw the small girl flare out her cape. It had concealed rows of derringers. No wonder she was so confident with such a small gun. He watched as her taller partner grabbed her and tried to remind her that it was better to stay alive than to be the first to return fire. To his astonishment, instead of flinging her partner off, she had cried a whole confession out into her partners arms. She was hiding some pain, he had been right. But that she used her work to help her avoid whatever the situation was, was a new revelation. It was also a devastating one for him. He was her latest assignment, and with such a drive and tenacity how was he ever going to ditch them? His feet were going numb in the barrel. Oh, he wished this whole thing could end soon.

Things quieted for a moment, a stand off while the finer points of the deal were negotiated, as to who would get the land. Then the bullying land lord made the wrong remark, something that riled him. That there would be no witnesses. He raised his revolver, but then she stepped forward. A moment ago she had been crying, but there she stood, lecturing the land lord. When those lectures were not directed at him, they were actually quite good. An explosion made them all jump and the young man who had caused all the raucous in the first place sped out on his motorbike, snatched the debated land deed and sped off. The gang that had backed him then realized their betrayal. One tossed a human cannonball at him. He watched the short girl go for the shot, and raised his gun and fired as she did. The cannonball fell short of the bike, and the young man sped into the darkness. He watched the short girls confusion with some amusement. There that was payback for the help on sand steamer.

Ah no, the water was still rising in his barrel. He had to get out of here soon! Then it was too late. There must be some rotten twist of fate to this, for him to be sitting in a barrel defending the most aggravating women in the world, while he had a wet arse.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Spoilers galore: Trigun Vol 2

Were there were any advantages to trailing Vash the Stampede? There must be. Meryl stood staring up at the blue sky trying to think what they were. Duty? She scowled at the empty blue skies above her head, mocking her in their clarity, while her mind was fogged. At the end of things, all the insanity became was a document, a report to forward.

That thought broke her heart. No. No, she must remember. The wonderful and the beautiful, and because this was Vash the Stampede, the strange and the impossible.

She smiled then. He had taken a basketball to the face in May City. He never seemed to have much luck staying out of trouble. Even when he was ignoring the world and it was only the neighborhood kids around him. He had hammed it up as usual and had even asked her to buy a round of ice creams for the very kids that had interrupted his daydreaming.

She wondered what he day dreamed. She had imagined silly things knowing the talk that came out of his mouth, but now she was not so sure. Milly had spoken of how sad he had looked, and how he had covered it, hiding behind those spectacles of his. It had been eerie how he had been the one accused of murder, simply by the default of his awful reputation and his proximity to the deceased. No, that was another upsetting thought; she was trying to think of the good times.

She smiled, but with wry knowing, rather than happiness. In her mixed up state it was the best she could do. He had made her so very angry, simply accepting his sentence and amicably sitting in the cell. As if he did not care what happened to him. Did he not understand how much he was worth? How wonderful he was? Ack! She had not just thought that. No, um, what was she thinking about before his terrible self esteem had derailed her thought process, oh yes, what were the good times? At least the Sheriff had allowed them to see him. Milly had freaked out over something; she had said he had looked like a ravening wolf with eyes that had glinted like gimlets. Meryl wondered at Milly's observation. When she had a look in, his expression was the same smile and sadly, peaceful eyes he always wore.

Then he had said something that had enraged her, about how they should not waste their time on him. She had wanted to shake him, defend him, and make sure he knew how much he was worth. That man needed a good hug, and to be told that he was loved. Not by her, of course, that would be wildly inappropriate, but surely, there was someone who could. Yes. Um, that was a positive thought, but how had she got onto the topic of hugging Vash the Stampede of all people?

Um…

She stared up at the blue skies, not wanting to look down just now. That would not be wise. No, happy thoughts. Positive thoughts, of the kind that did not include any sort of inappropriate physical intimacy with a certain gunman. Urg, were random thoughts what happened in times of stress? No, not to her. So, to focus her mind. He had tried to keep them out of the fight. Milly had told her what had happened afterwards, and she had a vague memory of some of it, but being furiously terrified was what had stuck. Furious for his sake and terrified that he would be harmed. Milly had said that she had aimed a derringer at the huge attacker, being unable to recall that, she was impressed with her own insanity. Being around Vash was beginning to rub off in all sorts of odd ways. The only other thing she recalled was how sore her head had been for the rest of the day. No, the good things…

They had set him free for protecting the city. She smiled, and glanced to her right, then slowly lowered her eyes to the horizon. If she kept her gaze there, it was just another peaceful stretch of desert with blue skies above it. She had witnessed his struggle with some inner demon, and for the first time seen how hard it was for him to live by his own philosophy. How much it had cost him not to kill the man he had just beaten. He had been crying when they had found him. She had wanted to… no she was not going there. Geez, what was it about the stupid man? Every time he was uncertain or upset, she wanted to comfort him. Well, perhaps it was her hereto-undiscovered matronly instincts. Yes, that was what it was. It could not be anything else.

He had succeeded in reminding the city, and her and Milly that he was the Humanoid Typhoon for a reason. He was at the eye of the storm, calm, wonderful, majestic, and with all manner of chaos thrown up around him. She smiled without realizing it. The first time she had seen what he'd actually looked like, under that red coat of his, she'd felt as though someone had punched her in the gut, and at the same time, she had wanted to run over and touch him. As scarred and as astonishing as his body was, with his left arm a prosthetic and the strange protective grids over the worst of his wounds, it was the most enticing thing she had ever seen. She found herself chewing on a knuckle and blinked at the dust and rubble under her feet. He was magnificent and terrible, beautiful and strange and she had got more than an eyeful to keep her mind entertained for nights on end. He had sat there with his towel around his neck and had tried to explain things. She had only heard his explanation of his wounds through sheer practice at having sat through tedious meetings and running her mind on two tracks at once. Again, what he had said had exasperated her. She recalled it as if he were speaking it now, before her, "This stuff's not meant for the tender eyes of ladies. They'd just run away!" Vash and his stupid self esteem issues! Could he not see… hang on. Her eyes went wide, not seeing anything of the devastation around her as emotional devastation hit her heart. He had wanted someone to look. A lady to look at him and not be repulsed. With his easy going manner, she'd missed the deeper meaning. He actually wanted someone. It had not been a poor self esteem issue, for her simply to refute his statement by denying it. Oh, how had she been so stupid? That man. The heartache that welled up inside her made her clench her fists to contain the agony she felt on his behalf. She was only now beginning to grasp how lonely he was. She scrubbed her fists at her tears. Good thoughts, ah, she needed some good thoughts.

Hah! His performance on the bus. That still made her laugh; or rather it made her laugh now at watching how he irritated all the other passengers with his antics. Watching how other people responded to his exuberance was very amusing when she knew she processed those reactions every day. He had kept saying random things aloud and fidgeting and then he had spent a whole fifteen minutes annoying everyone trying to get the bus to fetch the fallen man he had seen. The bus driver had only left the road to shut him up. The surprise everyone had felt when they had actually found someone somewhat lessened their irritation at him. He had been a lot quieter on the trip onwards. Meryl smiled; Vash seemed to get on rather well with the charming priest he had collected. She had watched the awkward laughter and ribbing banter, which countered as tentative friendship between men and was quite relieved that he had had something to distract him on the trip. He needed a few male friends, she decided, they definitely took him out of himself.

But that wonderful priest had left when they had arrived at Jeneora Rock. Vash had run off almost as fast, but his flight had been something frantic, desperate. She and Milly had not been able to keep up. They had found him later, though, unconscious, bloody and caught against a railing beside a cliff face. Below there were a crowd of officials inspecting a fallen body, it would be only a matter of moments before someone looked up. She and Milly had grabbed Vash's unconscious form and had dragged him back to their newly rented rooms. She had been astonished at how calmly Milly had handled removing his coat and patching up his wounds and scratches. She had no idea what was wrong with her, but every time she touched him, she felt as though a wild electricity were running through her hands and shorting all over her body.

Then he had woken up and scared the life out of her. He had yelled a name, Knives, but she had never heard him speak of that person before. She had also never seen such fury and intensity in his eyes. She had tried to get him to lie back down, but he had been so stubborn. She felt her heart twist in agony in her chest. It had been the last time she had seen him, and she had hit him through the face. She put her hands up to her cheeks, unable to cry. The debris around her could not even induce remorse or pity, or fear. She had thought him hysterical, and he had been, but with what cause. Oh, how little she knew of him. He had put her aside with the hint and she had guessed Lost July. And then recalled with awful stomach clenching terror that he'd been given a $$60 billion bounty for that very act. He had run off, after grimly telling them to run away. To run away from him.

Yet, for the first time, he had said her name. Oh, that was a good memory, yet so sad, the price at which it had come was too great. The chaos that followed, had awed her, terrified the town, and damned him yet again. He was the most aggravating person on the planet, and at the same time so devastatingly brave. And the very last thing she had done was hit him. She stood with the desolation behind her watched as his red coat, caught on a piece of shrapnel, fluttered out in the wind against the vast blue skies.

How was she to think good thoughts when all she wanted to do was go to pieces? She summoned her cool outer persona, and her business mind ordered her emotionally wrecked thoughts. He had not died at July. Though she had searched for his body here, she had not found him. That meant he had gone. Not into death, but worse, he had walked away. He had left, all alone, as he had been trying to do all along. She was suddenly intensely angry with him. Did he not understand that they were there for him, no matter what he looked like, no matter what he did? He was her job! _Her_ job! Did he not know that for the first time in her entire life, her job had ceased to be duty, but had become something so much deeper and wonderful? Oh, when she found him again, she was going to give him such a pounding! She gasped in agony. No. She now sincerely regretted hitting him. She would give him the scolding of his life. She walked down the rubble towards Milly, feeling her determination grow into confidence. The longer it took to find him the more finely tuned her lecture would be.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Spoilers: Manga: Trigun vol 2 (end)

Wolfwood stood in the wreckage of Jeneora Rock feeling a tumult of emotions.

Vash the Stampede. Vash the Infuriating, or rather Vash the Bloody Inconsiderate. Yes, that last one had distinct possibilities. He would think of better ones once he had had a smoke. Nicotine had the amazing ability to calm his nerves. And right now he needed to calm his nerves. He hunted through his pockets, where was that pack he always carried? He could not believe what he had just witnessed. It was not that he did not know that such power was possible, quite the contrary, the Eye of Michael had indoctrinated them to believe in the almighty nature of the plants. He had a firm respect for the awesome and dreadful power the plants had, and of Knives, of whom he had only heard hushed rumors. Yet to think that that annoying man, who had plucked him out of the desert, was one of them just galled. He had been kind, and smiled at children and acts of charity, and had bought him lunch. Wolfwood leaned on his cross punisher and dug around in his hip pocket, sheesh he kept a lot of rubbish in there, papers, oh, there it was the box of… ugh, no those were his playing cards with the six aces. He shoved it back, where were those damned smokes?

Vash the Brokenhearted. He had smiled so emptily it had hurt. Wolfwood raised his eyes up to look at the Fifth Moon, the crater still glowing with the energy of it all. No wonder he had a smile like that. What an infuriating fellow, he acted so contradictory to what he was. How did an all powerful plant come to be walking around without a left arm, numerous scars on his body and a bounty on his head? Didn't he know he could just declare who he was and people would serve him? His brother had that concept smoothed out, and it worked. He had a job because it worked. The Eye of Michael was a terrible place, but when one could not choose ones destiny, one simply had to make the best of the bad. He had the orphans to consider, and that was enough of a consolation to him. Damn it! Where was that packet of cigarettes? He fished inside his jacket pocket and found a box. Ahhh, ye- Ack! No! No! Noooo! Empty. He crumpled it up and flung it away where it bounced down a pile of rubble to join the rest of the rubbish.

Vash the Pitiless, destroying a city like this. Him and his bloody brother. Straight up, Knives scared him, and there were not many people who scared him. If even a quarter of the lesser rumors were to be believed, then a nonchalant stroll through hell would be rest and relaxation compared to what was ahead. Only, things did not make any sense. That Vash on the bus had such a gentle innocent smile. He had seen the look in Knives's eyes as he had spoken to his brother. No, there was no doubt that Knives was the dominant one and Vash did his bidding. But wait… not entirely. The man had shot himself in the leg to get to his brother. Knives only thought he had the upper hand, Vash played the game on an entirely different level with completely different rules. Wolfwood blinked, his hunt for the elusive cigarette pack forgotten. What the hell had he just thought? Vash was superior to Knives, whom he had taught to revere utterly.

Vash the Supreme? He leaned on his cross punisher feeling the wind blow through his hair. It felt like the cold wind was blowing through his mind, scattering all thought. No, all he was seeing was the difference between them. Knives still had the upper hand. He had power, he had the wherewithal to summon loyal followers who would die for him, and he had a master plan. Just where did Legato fit in with it all if Knives had disabled him with a touch like that? Wolfwood shifted nervously, he had taken one of Legato's coins, so he was technically Legato's minion. Would Knives see it that way? No, he would make it clear whom he served. His hand moved to his upper coat pocket, old bills, a dry cleaning slip, and an IOU note some cheeky blighter had put into the church collection after they had helped themselves. He had kept it because it had made him laugh so much. He grinned at it again, and put it back, his fingers searching. Was there not even a loose cigarette in lurking unsuspecting in the corner of his pocket? No? Damn.

Vash the Dreadful. The way that power had almost consumed the town. The way it had almost taken out everyone, save its wielder and his puppet. Knives did not need them. He had his brother, that had been all too clear in that moment. But Vash was no puppet, and Knives in his newly awakened state was a poor puppet master. Had he even thought that? Damn, but that crater on the moon was sickening. That was how close they had all come to death, had Knives had his way. But Vash had risked hurting himself to prevent it. Wolfwood felt fury pulse through his body, burning every rational thought. He screamed at the skies, demanding answers. But the only one who could give them to him had vanished. Well, the solution there was to find the terrifying soft hearted fool and to get them. He slipped and skidded down the rubble and headed across to where he had seen them fall. He caught himself on the cross punisher a few times. If his old master could see how he was treating his weapon, he'd be flogged. Thinking of his old master made his hand go to his ear, searching for the rumpled nip he kept there. The amount of times he had to shove away his smoke to get serious back in training. What? Nothing? Not even a pathetic half smoked one. Damn it!

Vash the Delusional! He had found the spot, but there was no longer anyone there. Blood stained the rubble, and marks where feet had dragged, but the trail died within two yarz of it beginning as it went over the sturdier rubble. But there, in the middle of the scuff marks lay a silver revolver. He picked it up, surprised at how heavy it was, good to know that the man carried a decent gun, though it was in awful shape now. Nice, throw your gun away pal! It was not the thing that put the hole in the moon… oh hell … That soft hearted fool? Would he do something as stupid as decide to kill himself? Just when he, Wolfwood, had put his soul down to back him? Crap, he needed a smoke now! He hiked the punisher onto his shoulder and ran up the pile of rubble toward which the bloody path guided him. But search as he might, he could find no trace. Not even blood, and there should be blood! He set down the cross punisher atop the tallest pile of rubble he had managed to climb and stared around him at the wreckage. No Vash. Damn. No Knives, possibly a good thing, though with the rumors, probably a very bad thing. None of Legato's cronies, nor the doctor. Not good either, he could not be seen to be, er, disloyal at this stage. He put his hand into the inner pocket of his coat, ahhh, ooh, there it was. He took out the box and inside there was one cigarette. Oh, what a beauty. He lit it up and took a deep pull. That hit the spot. Ahh.

No, Vash the Bloody Inconsiderate, it was! He squinted down at the cigarette crookedly curling out of his mouth. Where in the hell in this amount of catastrophic wreckage was he going to find a new box of smokes now that he was breathing his last?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Spoilers: Trigun Maximum Manga vol 1

Milly sat at the window watching for Meryl's signal. She could see Meryl talking to Mister Keele on the roof of the building on the other side of the street. She adjusted the stun gun as Mister Keele turned, tracking his movements. Behind her calm movements was a banked fire of fury, as she watched him with hawk-eyed determination. It was as much expression as she could give to her aggravation as yet. Meryl had been so upset. And no one upset Meryl and got away with it.

Although, that was not entirely true. Mister Vash upset Meryl on a regular basis, but he was in a class of his own. He was in a whole school of his own. Miss Meryl loved him and that made him special, but even then, there were limits to the ways in which he was allowed to upset Meryl. He had made her cry before he had run out on them at Jeneora Rock. She had instantly called him on it. However, since he had carved the hole in the Fifth Moon and had run off, he had not been around. This had made Meryl cry, but only when she thought people were not watching. Milly fully intended to have a word with Mister Vash on this score, if only she could work out how to do it without making it plain that Meryl loved him. Meryl had not yet confessed, and so she had to be discreet until she did. Milly wondered why Meryl was so timid. Her big big sister always said, 'never hold back in matters of the heart' and she lived by that, allowing things to be plain made things easier.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the cheerful priest they had met on the bus on the way to Jeneora Rock. She smiled her encouragement for his efforts. He was helping Mister Vash who was riddled with bullet wounds. She was glad the wandering Priest had found Mister Vash again; they got on so well together. She had seen them fight, and they reminded her of how she and Meryl fought, as a team, protecting each other and fighting alongside each other. She felt her heart lift. Mister Priest was a good man and a good fighter. She waited for Meryl's signal, and watched the tall priest help Mister Vash along the street to the hospital. He protected Mister Vash, and thus protected Meryl. Milly felt she very much approved of the man. She turned her keen eyed stare of disapproval back to Mister Keele. At least Meryl was now talking to him and he was no longer shooting. Milly gasped as Keele straightened and drew a pistol on Meryl. No! That was not allowed to happen! Yet, Meryl still did not give the signal! Milly gazed, her attention intent on her partner. She had Mister Keele in her sights now; his back presented such an excellent target. Now for that signal, oh Miss Meryl was so brave standing there talking while death could be a finger twitch away.

She admired her partner's tranquillity in such a stressful situation. She had been so angry when she had heard what their friend Karen, back at Bernadelli, had had to say about Mister Keele. He was a former elite soldier, and a killer. Milly had been itching to go home, pick up her stun gun, and follow him the moment she heard. Not only would Mister Keele likely cause unimaginable damage in trying and failing to assassinate Mister Vash, but if he did somehow hurt Mister Vash, Meryl would be upset. However, Meryl had remained calm, and had suggested that they do some snooping in the Bernadelli archives and records. What they had uncovered staggered her mind. The man and several of his associates had a very dodgy scheme running whereby they assassinated those people who caused the greatest losses to the insurance agency, and by helping to clean up the mess, actually received bonuses. She had wanted to run out then and grab her stun gun, but still Meryl had asked for calm. They were due to go on holiday to New Miami, and Meryl had gained a steely glint in her eye and said that it would be a perfect detour to go via Meldreck. Milly had packed her stun gun.

Ah! There it was! The signal! Milly let the stun gun claw fly with exuberant joy. She watched as Mister Keele raised the gun to end her precious friend's life and the claw slammed into his back, sending him tumbling. What a successful shot! Milly waved her arms in victory at Meryl and called out in delight. Miss Meryl smiled and complimented her shot, then had amazed her with her calm response, a suggestion that they simply continue their vacation. Milly shouldered her stun gun and gazed across the street at the fallen assassin as he groaned in agony. Of the many times she had shot her gun, this was one of those times where she felt a glow of determination form inside her, knowing that her action was not only right but beneficial. She had removed a very aggravating person from their path, and so doing eased the lives of Mister Vash, and Mister Priest. That, she felt, was an excellent day's work.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Spoilers: Manga: Trigun Maximum Vol 1 (& Vol 8)

Wolfwood was very glad of the opportunity to do something illegal and dangerous. He was so irritated that he did not fear capture. In fact, he would relish the challenge. Disappointingly, his illegal activity went unobserved as he wheeled the newly liberated motorcycle from the yard behind the saloon. He even went as far as pushing it past the front doors, but whoever owned it did not even notice. He glared regretfully at the light spilling out of the saloon onto the dark street and hiked the cross punisher over his shoulder. Now where was the city lock up from here? He kicked the bike into a roar of life and sped down the road. The thrill of speed did nothing to diminish the pent up frustration. Just how had he gone from wishing to follow Vash rather than Knives, to sincerely wishing he could pound Vash into a bloody pulp?

Oh yes! It had started with Vash the Stampede and his bloody death wish. How was _he_ supposed to keep the damned man alive if the man had no sense of self-preservation? He walked where angels feared to tread… Mmh. Was that it? Was he a fool? His actions certainly made him look like one. He winced at the memory of when he had finally found him after two unsettling years of searching.

Those two years. He was used to a hard life, but the creeping horror he had felt during his encounter with Knives seeped like poison into his soul and drove him on. He had wanted to kill him; without Knives, there would be no threat. He had bitterly learned the overwhelming difference between himself, even as enhanced as his body was, and the might of a weak and injured plant. He had been reminded of the contract the Eye of Michael held and dismissed. Knives had known his intent and had waved him off as if he were no more of a threat than a buzzing fly.

As much as dread had gained a sickening depth of meaning after that encounter with Knives, so had bemusement gained a foothold on meeting Vash. The twisted hold of fear had broken as Vash had performed that mortifying naked dance. Wolfwood grinned at the release, yet shuddered at the shame he felt on the man's behalf. Who would willingly strip naked and bark like a dog in an attempt to get a group of thugs to leave peacefully? Vash had been shot for his efforts. Wolfwood had almost died himself that moment; all the weighty dread returned, with added terror. Knives would kill him for this, and it would be haunted and slow.

He had hurried with the crowd over to the hospital, trying to conceal his panic. When he had heard two men speak disparagingly of Vash and his pride, he had released some of his aggravation by pinning a man against the wall with his cross punisher. He grinned to himself as he sped through the dark streets of the town. He had made them think twice about verbally kicking a man when he was down. It had been rather satisfying, and there had been a fantastic shoot out with the thugs later. It had been at that moment that he had begun to think of the perplexing man as a friend. He smiled.

Gah! No! He wasn't supposed to be reliving past pleasures. He had something serious to consider, was he protecting a fool? His life was on the line here! There was the silly act of Vash's, just a few months later, trying to defend a woman in a car instead of running from a bounty hunter. He had been shot for his efforts, again. Wolfwood had tried to reason with the stupid plant, but he was as trusting as his brother was evil. Did Vash not understand the predicament he placed Wolfwood in every time he risked himself? He had been so furious then, he had done more than warn people off his friend, he had made sure the utter imbecile who had shot him had received his just desserts. Wolfwood grinned broadly, that had been immensely satisfying.

Sheesh! He caught himself again. Why, despite Vash getting into stupid situations, did he, Wolfwood, came out of them gloating? What about this latest one, which surely showed Vash to be a bigger fool than he had imagined? He had tried his level best to argue the man out of it. He had even tried to point out to Vash that his pacifism was a problem. It was the best he could do without mentioning his terrifying brother wanted Wolfwood to keep him alive. Vash had angrily misunderstood. No, not entirely, the plant had understood the fear he hid behind the statements. Only it was not that Wolfwood was not worried about people dying, it was the fear of Vash dying that fuelled his drive. He had watched in disbelief as Vash had jumped about like an idiot in front of the hijacked sand steamer, then had run inside to take on the hijackers himself.

He clenched his hands on the bike handlebars and tore around a corner, leaning in so hard that he almost skimmed his knee on the road. The cold sensation in his stomach replaced the hot fury of frustration. It was more than simply being a fool. It went straight through idiocy and came out the other side as a kind of awe-inspiring bravery. A weird sense of self-sacrifice. He had had to defend Vash's pride to himself on watching him walk out beaten and bloody, and handcuffed by the Feds. He had had a moment of blissful relief at seeing him alive, and then was astonished at how the anger had poured in. At the time, he had only scathing fury towards Vash, who surely deserved it more than anyone. Did the man not know that he held two lives on the line when he gambled with his? Yet now, with a sickening twist in his gut, he felt rage towards the situation that had forced his friend's hand. No, he was not defending a fool. He was defending a man who had, paradoxically, a humbler and prouder spirit than any he had ever seen.

Wolfwood eased back the throttle on the bike and slowed as he came to the street just up from the city jail. Vash, for all the fool that he was, made ample provision for an immense amount of deadly fun. The satisfaction of being able to release his perplexity at the man's incongruities was delightful. He raised his cross punisher and launched a rocket at the cell walls. He felt adrenaline flood through him as he sped through the falling debris and ramped up into the jailhouse. From amid the rubble he extracted his friend and the man his friend had humbled himself to save. However, seeing that soppy pleased smile on Vash's face had irked all the delight and satisfaction out of him. As they drove off, Vash gave him the hug he had managed to fend off earlier. Gah! There was only so much Wolfwood could take. He elbowed Vash in the guts, ooh that felt so much better. Perhaps having the infuriating man around to pound would actually help. It sure lightened his mood right now.

Yes, he was delighted to have a way to express his exasperation. Especially as the man, who truly was the most aggravating person in the world, was untouchable.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Spoilers: Manga: Trigun Maximum 2

Between the various manifestations of pain there was a tension. The physical pain of injuries and the emotional pain of loss and fear rested in balance, one with the other. However, at times, all the pain crowded on one side of the scale to weight against the worst pain of all, the possibility of hope. It was a time like that now.

Vash huddled against the hard bench of the small cable car. He appreciated the company. Wolfwood was there with him, and he always enjoyed a place better when he had someone to share it with, to view it afresh through their perception. He was in an odd mood. This was too soon to return, and considering the circumstances with Knives and his gang abroad, exceedingly dangerous. Yet Rei-Dei's threat had given him no choice. It was a classic catch twenty-two, he would lose both ways; he knew the game well enough. He just had to take the path that lead to the least loss. His heart broke all over again, but he caught the pieces with the expertise of one who knew that if he could hold the state of collapse long enough it would begin to heal slightly. No! He could do this. The smile worked, but he didn't feel like smiling. Then Wolfwood asked him the most inane question and it unearthed his innate silliness. There were _other_ ways of dispersing the discontent. He eyed his friend and with an air of nonchalance, dug his finger into his nose and airily dismissed Wolfwood's question. Hah! That hit just the right nerve in Wolfwood! Ow! Ow! Ow! It was odd how having the irate priest pound him was better pain than what he felt.

He had been against travelling to Tonim Town, but Wolfwood had persistently headed there. Vash knew the behaviour well enough to guess what was driving him. His brother had somehow subjugated the man. In some way or other Knives had influenced everyone on the entire planet, including him. Redemption from such entrapment certainly did not begin by accusing another of it. Such things people had to work out for themselves. They were stronger and surer of their future when they did. No, he would do what he always did, walk alongside and travel the lost roads of the soul yet again. No matter how many times he walked, there was always a new path. It was the old path, but trod in different boots, behind another's tracks, it was new. Perhaps one day the new path would become, not familiar, but purposeful. His entire being utterly shied away from that. Purpose would mean facing the truth, the greatest reality: he would have to face his brother. His soul turned from the greater path and trod the lesser; it was all he could do now. He was strong, he knew he was, but was he strong enough for that test? He hunched his shoulders slightly as his past failures in conflict with his brother marched relentlessly across his mind.

Wolfwood was sulking, and making odd remarks about life and death. He was oddly enigmatic on certain topics, such as Knives, and why he held so strongly to his belief that killing was the answer. Vash fidgeted on the bench, his arm still hurt where Wolfwood had hit him. The priest knew Knives, and had done everything to avoid answering the questions he had asked, including allowing him to drive his beloved bike. Vash marvelled at how distracted and irritated the priest must have been to come up with that. He had told him he could not drive, but only an exhibition of his appalling skills had convinced Wolfwood that the sidecar -with a supply of tasty doughnuts- was the place for him. Not that Wolfwood had done any better, he thought wryly. Vash had intermittent memories of the accident. It worried him that such a thing could so easily put him out of action. He had to make it through to face his brother. Had that been yet another test of his strength, or was it a block to show he was not yet ready? Was it cowardice to choose the latter? Or was it wisdom? He blinked, catching Wolfwood's latest remark. The priest had taken his recovery from the accident, and subsequent near misses, to mean that he was somehow un-killable? No! That was not a good rumour to be spreading about! He laughed it off.

Yes, he was returning home. Or as close to home as he could get. Not for the first time he wondered where on the planet the mother ship had landed, or if it had burned up in the atmosphere. He would have liked to be able to take geraniums to Rem's grave. He felt as though he had been punched in the gut at that thought. No, no. It was good he did not know. He doubted he would be able to leave such a place if he ever found it. He would, he was almost sure, but his tired, aching and lonely heart wavered even now. He was almost relieved that he would never have to endure that testing. He tried to explain the situation to Wolfwood. The priest misunderstood his life at such a basic level, and Vash had to let him, as did to everyone. He could not explain the epic conflict between himself and his brother, mostly because he only half understood it himself. Thus, people misunderstood him, his resolve, his love, his search for peace, and he wavered between doubt and determination. The priest compared Vash's way of life to his own; how he had to protect the orphans. As comparisons went, it was one of the few that came closest to the depth and complexity of Vash's own reality. However, his orphans were the population of the entire planet, which included Wolfwood. No, he could not say that. It would offend Wolfwood at the very least, and at best, it would give him too dangerous an insight into the truth of the world. Vash knew his heart could not cope with it, and even now, his mind shied away from the idea, it would not do to have Wolfwood's eager inquiring mind chewing it over.

He felt his heart lift as Wolfwood stared out the window at the ship floating in the sea of sand. There it was the awe and astonishment that he felt anew. It was a miracle this place. Gazing at it himself, he felt his heart lift unbidden by his own will. He was home. He stood as the cable car hummed on its cable and swung into the station. They alighted on the platform and walked down the stairs, Vash could not help his eager swift pace. The way his boots echoed on the metal, the smell of the place. It soothed his soul, yet drove up a wild torment that he could hardly contain. Knives. Knives had driven him here, with a deliberate remark by one of his minions. Yet, did Knives not know what home was? The comfort? He gazed at his brother in his mind's eye, trying to show him the ethereal concepts of protection, trust, safety and faith. Oh, his brother knew that, and knew the agony of having that wrenched from him. He had not been strong enough to live through the pain to begin to rebuild the trust needed to restore faith. Vash clenched his fist against the pain then. He so badly wanted to hug his brother then, and to share his strength until his brother could grow into his own. He gazed up at the large doors that sealed off the dust of the outside. Not only was his concern for the ship dwellers tearing him apart, but the fate of his brother's heart.

The doors opened and he felt nothing at first. It was an illusion dancing before his eyes. The relief that washed over him on seeing all the people alive and well drove him to his knees. Ah, for once, he could allow the hope to tip the scales. He blinked and breathed out. Love and peace, yes, that was what he believed, and hope was a necessary by-product. He wryly scolded himself, how could he continue his mission of spreading love and peace, if he so easily forgot? His own doubting soul was sometimes the most aggravating person he knew.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Spoilers: Manga: Trigun Maximum vol 3

Milly clutched at her stun gun, resting it on the edge of the balcony. For a residence, this place was enormous. She had seen the skeletal ruins of the old star ships and had visited plant power stations on school trips, but to be inside a working star ship... She still could not get past her awe at how different it all was on the inside. She had imagined it would be like the inside of a house, except made of metal instead of mud and stone, but this was something else all together. Everything looked crafted, beautifully made like an intricate puzzle that fitted together. She could not imagine the size of the factory required to produce one of these, let alone a whole fleet. The railing she rested her stun gun on now, was simple, utilitarian and she could see no bolts where it joined the wall, yet it held her weight when she tugged at it. It was the little things like that which fascinated her. She watched Meryl scouting the other side of the huge room and kept an eye out for more of those strange puppet parts. Jessica had headed the other way, and waved to them that her way was clear. Meryl gave a yelp and sprinted back past Milly as a puppet assembled itself and walked out of the room she had been inspecting. Milly waited until it had fully assembled and let fly a stun gun claw, then fled after the others. Oh she hated the way those puppets were so sneaky.

They had arrived on tomas back, with Jessica, a young woman who spent the entire trip talking about Vash. At first she and Meryl had tried to add what they knew of him, but Jessica would simply not allow a word in edge ways. The trip had felt the longest she had taken on tomas back, even though it was only several iles from where Jessie had dropped them off to Melca Border's great sand ocean. Milly had tried to interrupt when she noticed Meryl becoming agitated, but to no avail. However, what had silenced Jessica was her own discomfort. Her running commentary became not so much Vash and his rather whimsical ways, but more a reflection on how hard life was outside and how the sand got in her clothes and how the tomas saddle bruised her backside. Meryl had suggested in a smooth purr that she remove the saddle and ride bare back. Milly interrupted her and explained how very uncomfortable that was. She had been a little shocked when Meryl rolled her eyes at her, not Jessica. As the comments on her backside became more and more frequent, the smug bliss on Meryl's face became more apparent. Milly pitied Jessica, but could not help but empathise with Meryl; she had found the continuous, nonstop, ever praising monologue on Vash quite wearying. At least now, while they were running about the enormous starship, Jessica only spoke of Vash with fierce determination, she would find him. Milly sincerely hoped they would. They needed him with these murderous creepy puppet figures stalking them.

They had arrived at a tall ruined building that housed cable car. It was quite an ingenious contraption, but the tomas's refused to go in. They had tried shoving and pushing and bribing them with food. All they had succeeded in doing was to make sure that the tomas's were so upset that they messed the floor with vomit, pee and poop, not to mention the shed roof below and the floor outside. They had left the agitated tomas's there. Milly was relieved that there was a second cable car, even after hosing the other one out, it still stank. Jessica spent the entire trip, chewing her nails and staring wide eyed at the ship as they approached. Milly had only felt astounded awe at seeing an almost complete star ship hovering in the ocean of sand. The sun blinked off the domes and it seemed something so out of this world when compared to the wrecks to which she was accustomed. Jessica had frozen as they came to a halt, her eyes fixed on a strange man who stood waiting at the door where they were to disembark from the cable car. As soon as the door open he darted in, his hand springing back to reveal a gun. It had been their first encounter with a puppet. Milly had disassembled it with one thump of her stun gun claw. They had clustered around to inspect it when it had suddenly all broken apart and the pieces rattled away from them. By unanimous agreement, they stuck together and all took out weapons, even Jessica who grabbed a broken piece of pipe.

The ship was a shambles. Even Jessica who knew her way round had to double back and take other routes, because either the floor had been torn up, or there were more of the lethal puppets. They kept hearing gunfire and headed cautiously towards it, but it came from two different directions, and sometimes became confused. There was no doubt though that both Vash and Wolfwood were there, Milly thought she recognised the sound of their guns. Then Milly saw Meryl run for the railing as they entered another huge hall. Below was Wolfwood. And some hideous monster, worse than the puppets they had faced. Wolfwood staggered, bloody and weary, as the monster charged him with deathly silence. Milly did not think she launched herself off the railing. To her astonishment, Miss Meryl followed. They both landed on the monster before it could swing its killing blow. Wolfwood turned to them, ashen faced and wide eyed. And gibbered a bit. Milly felt so happy, she was glad to have helped the priest, from his bloody appearance he had done enough battle with the puppets and the creature they had stunned.

It was as Wolfwood helped them up and Jessica took the stairs down to where they were that they realised the puppets had stopped moving. Wolfwood wiped his brow and murmured something about Vash having gone after the puppet master. He turned and jammed his punisher into the stunned monster's side and ordered Jessica to fetch those who could contain it. He swayed as he spoke. For once Jessica made no remark, she simply turned and ran. Milly kept her stun gun out, if Wolfwood were to fall and the monster were to wake, then it was up to her and Meryl to keep it subdued. At least those puppets were still. She watched the priest screw up his face in a concentrated scowl, and felt her heart ache. He had protected Mister Vash by going after the more deadly monster, for that she was relieved. But for some reason, the ache did not dissipate on seeing him, she pondered this feeling, surprised at her own heart. She had become concerned for the man himself, beyond respecting him for protecting Mister Vash and thus Miss Meryl. She watched as Jessica returned at a run with other people, all armed and carrying chains and bindings. She lowered her stun gun as they went to work on their prisoners. There was a sigh behind her and she turned from watching the people work to find Wolfwood sprawled out on the floor unconscious. How could he? In this moment of triumph and honour and, and, she glared down at him as turmoil filled her heart. He was supposed to be the strong one who protected the strong ones, how could he show such weakness? Or had he, perhaps rightly, thought she and Meryl could share such a burden at this time? She put down her stun gun and crouched beside him as medics came over to help. How aggravating a man he was, so strong and so weak, and somehow still able to carve out a piece of her heart.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Spoilers galore: Manga: Trigun Maximum 3 & 4

Meryl shaded her eyes with her hand as she hurried along the brightly lit corridor of the ship. Her pace was slightly faster than a walk, but it was the best she could muster in her delicate state. She slowed as she came to a corner and felt the nausea wash over her as she took it too fast. The best thing she could say about this situation was that the party the night before had been extraordinary. She had partied with some of the best, but these folk on the ship seemed to take it to another level. There were not many people around at this early hour. She closed her eyes and took a breath to try and clear her head. She would still be sleeping if it had not been for a sense in her gut. Of late, such senses regarding Vash usually were correct, which was not encouraging at all. Why did she have a Vash radar all of a sudden? She had been _fine_ not knowing where he was for two years. Why now?

She opened her eyes as she felt a little steadier, and walked into the mess hall. Some of the braver souls were eating breakfast, and there was Jessica. Oh, did that woman annoy and amuse her by turn. They had arrived on board the ship in time to interrupt a fight. She and Milly had assisted Wolfwood and had arrived at the hospital to find Vash out cold, having his hand bandaged. She had helped Milly with Wolfwood, while surreptitiously eavesdropping on the doctors as they worked to patch up the other injuries Vash carried. By their talk, they knew him and his temperament well enough, and by the way one of the doctors inspected his old wounds, some of his medical history. It had been a relief to know he was in good hands. Jessica had not been there at the time, she had not known then what a blessing that was.

Meryl leaned against the wall by the door of the canteen. Ugh, but her head hurt. What had she consumed the night before? There had been some particularly good beer, and then Milly had found some wine, oh yes, that had been it. Red wine always reappeared with a hideous head hammering the next morning, but mostly she had the opportunity to sleep through it. Though, this morning hadn't presented the opportunity. Meryl put her fingers in her ears as Jessica kicked up an awful bawling fuss. Brad tried to contain it and Meryl was thankful that the tall man tried to nudge the annoying woman out of the canteen. She felt sorry for the young man who quite clearly loved her, but Jessica remained oblivious. The reason for Jessica's ability to ignore all men around her was made blindingly obvious the next morning when she had signed herself, Meryl and Milly up to the duty roster. They were assigned to the hospital as Jessica had nagged for the posting. As they had walked in they had had found Vash awake and sitting up in bed. The relief she had felt on seeing that living light in his eyes startled her. Perhaps that was the moment the annoying gut sense had kicked in?

She shook her head, then clamped both hands over it in pain and groaned softly to herself. She had felt relief, that was true, but it had been a strange mix of delight and anger as well. Her confusion had cost her in more than an opportunity to greet him. As she had delayed, Jessica had yelled his name, run over and flung her arms around him as if he were her long lost lover. And he had patted her head and smiled, the old treacherous fool. Her bewilderment had left her speechless, but that didn't halt her actions. As injured as he was, he had worried her so much she had not slept much of the night before. That happy smile of his irked her so much that she had smacked him over the head with the clipboard she carried. Oh no, she as not having him hide behind his smile again. He had lost his smile fast, and thus satisfied she had defaulted to business mode, after all, it was their first official reacquaintance after two years. And still Jessica had not let go. What was with the woman? Meryl found herself staring at Jessica and Brad who were jamming up the other door of the canteen with their argument. Did Vash actually have some feelings for her? No, surely not, but he had comforted her as she had cried on his shoulder. If her head did not hurt so much perhaps, she could think up a perfectly rational reason for that, but right now, all she wanted to do was to find another clipboard and smack Jessica.

A day later Vash had taken Milly and her to see the cold sleep chamber. It had been cool there and peaceful. There had been something in the way he had explained things, the light in his eyes and a genuine smile on his face that had exuded peace and longing. Even though there was a strange distance to him, as if he stared out through layers of memory, she felt that here she could somehow glimpse a little of his mysterious past. There was something about the cold sleep chamber, and the ship that resonated with him like nothing else she had seen, it was as if his heart were somehow for a brief moment truly vulnerable. She had wanted to ask him about it then, but they were interrupted. A slight noise was all the warning they had had, and even then, they would have died had it not been for Vash and his quick reactions. It made her sick to recall how close it had been. Again, he had saved them, and again Wolfwood had saved Vash. It had been too close, far too close. Yet he had simply smiled and worried if those on the ship were fine. Jessica had been half-hysterical on hearing what had happened. She had insisted that Vash visit for dinner, and had very deliberately not included her or Milly. Meryl had watched the pair go off and would have watched them all the way down the passage had Milly not reminded her that they were expected at the hospital for their shift, as was Jessica, who had arranged the shifts. Meryl glowered after Vash, why was he so happy to go along with people? And _her_ of all people?

Then they had received the best news ever. The transmission had reached Earth, and what was more there had been a reply. She and Milly had been so excited that they had cracked open the celebratory beers early. That had been a good time; she and Milly had found Vash and Wolfwood before that chatty clingy girl. It had been the most spectacular party, and most had drunk themselves into a stupor. She vaguely recalled helping Milly off to bed. She had woken that morning feeling like something the dog had dragged in after some great dirty hairy thing had kicked her first. However, the premonition had driven her from her bed. She had knocked on his door, and then, with a sinking heart, on Wolfwood's. She had found neither men nor their possessions. Brad's words interrupted her reflections as his voice rang clear over the garbled hysterical cries Jessica was making.

"He left, I couldn't stop him!"

There was a sudden dead silence in the room. Jessica burst into real heart wrenching sobs and ran off. Meryl felt sludge settle at the bottom of her stomach. _He_, she knew who _he_ was, and for some reason Jessica's tears made her feel much better. She was not so pathetic as to cry over him. Honestly, how useless was that? Yes, when she and Milly had slept off their awful hangovers they would go after the pair of scoundrels. That was a much better plan than crying. As she walked back to her room, she wondered how Jessica could have so much verve and vitality that morning – even if it was for hysterics, did the girl not get hangovers? There was something about that girl. At first, she had been both annoying and amusing, but over the successive days Meryl had known her, she had descended to the status of the most aggravating person in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Spoilers galore: Trigun Maximum 5, 6 & 13

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A/N: this tale is all Manga related, not Anime, also a bit of an experiment, a slight deviation from the usual style of telling for this tale

* * *

I suppose I should have seen it coming, but by then I was too deep in the darkness to see greater darkness. I took the name Revnant Vasquez early on; perhaps I had an inkling then, that some dark fate was stalking me, and wished to hide my identity as Crewman Bill Conrad. When they found the ship and woke us from cold sleep, it had been over a hundred years since the great malfunction on the mother ship had caused what the settlers called "The Great Fall." My fellow cold sleep passengers numbered fifty seven, everyone else on the great ship had died unaware as it had broken up in the atmosphere. Of those fifty seven, only I was a ship officer, the rest were settlers. They did not understand the significance of having been on the 'mother ship' as relation to the Great Fall. Not at all. They were dismayed to discover the hard life to which they were awoken, but blissfully unaware that the ship they had been travelling on had condemned not only them, but millions of others.

The people of No Man's Land were crude, but helpful and generous with their knowledge of the dry land. They had obviously woken people out of cold sleep before, as they had a training regime, which they put us through. Practical things, like how to conserve water, how to ride a tomas, where to buy the best whiskey, and peculiar things like how to avoid insect contamination, where not to walk in the desert, how to spot the conditions for a sand storm, and how to fire a gun. Not having a gun on this world meant a vulnerability that most could not afford. I think it was the lawlessness which shocked us the most. Sure, we came from some hard places back on Earth, but never to this extent of knife-edge survival. By the end of the first month since our waking, four men were dead, one of alcohol poisoning, one by suicide and two by their own inept dulling talents. That was a wakeup call to the rest of us, we had to take this world seriously, or it would kill us.

I decided then, after observing the way things worked, that it was an opportunistic place. I was a cautious person by nature, and such caution could be greatly assisted by wealth. I was not going to end up scrounging the streets and earning my living as a salesman, or a gunman. No, I did not like the desert, and I did not like poverty, I would find a clerks job or something in banking where I could remain indoors. That decision held, and I studied accounting by night and participated in the various work-training programs by day. The Rescue and Resuscitation team, as they called those who woke folk from cold sleep, gave their newly awakened people six months to find their feet before moving on. It was towards the end of these six months that I had a startling revelation, given to me by the work-training program. I was selected, due to my interest in further study and intelligence, with a group of five others to visit the power plant for engineer assessment. I walked into the plant room with some trepidation, sure, I knew how plants worked on a ship, I had enough training as an operational crew member to assist with maintenance, but I was not a plant engineer. They had asked each one of us, hopefully, if we knew anything of 'lost technology' as they termed anything that had come with us from Earth. I had said no. But then I had not known how pitifully little these people actually knew.

My wish for wealth and a place indoors was granted the moment I curiously asked if configuring the system in another way would not only ease the load on the plants, but also allow them to run at a lower generation rate, while still maintain the same output. They stared at me as if I were some kind of heavenly messenger. By the end of the week, I had been appointed as deputy to the chief engineer. In retrospect, I was lucky, the chief engineer was a humble man and devoutly interested in plants. We worked together for the sake of the plants, not in rivalry and one-upmanship of the other's knowledge and expertise. I made a very comfortable life for myself, but as the years went by, the fact of my survival, and the peculiarity of the disaster that had grounded us on this world bothered me. I, along with the salvage team, often went to the 'mother ship' only I kept its true identity to myself. No one needed to know that it was the heart of the disaster, that would only jeopardise my position. I would spend time on the computers, browsing through the old logs, trying to work out what happened. I came across a series of peculiar commands that had been put into the ships mainframe under the auspices of Crewmember Rem Saverem. I even printed them out so that I could puzzle over them at home. I knew Rem. She was soft hearted and determined and had a stronger will than even I that the settlers found a good home. Why had she entered these peculiar commands that had resulted in millions of deaths? Perhaps she had gone stir crazy in the end, it sometimes happened. What a blight that it happened to the one person to whom we had entrusted our entire fleet. I tried to discover what happened to those who had awoken on crashing, but the local towns and villages all said they had found our ship thirty years back, but R&R had only woken us now, and no they knew of no survivors. Of course, the ship had broken up on impact, perhaps the rest of the people had landed elsewhere, been woken earlier and had lived and died before we even knew of our bitter fate. I never discovered anything solid regarding Rem's fate.

I think it was that that saved me the day he arrived. Odd that I never even considered him to be part of it all, though now it is all to very clear that he was the heart of it. A young man with blond hair and the most amazing blue eyes appeared like a ghost in the middle of my mansion. Sure he must have walked in, but none of my security had stopped him, and I had the best money could buy. This being No Man's Land, they were trained to shoot first question later if anything remained alive long enough to be questioned. I had requested that they shoot to disable, not kill, but was never sure if they took that request to heart. Yet there he was, sitting on my furniture, as if he belonged, waiting for me. It took a moment, but I recognised him, one of those peculiar children Rem had sought to keep secret. I always had an antsy feeling in my gut about them, those two boys, after what had happened to Tessla. I wondered if God would dole out punishment in this life, or if he would keep it for the next. I never quite expected purgatory on earth to be so awful, or so twisted. I knew what he was, and this was something unusual, as most people did not know the existence of autonomous plants. They looked human, and for the most part, acted human. Knives was friendly enough and determined enough at the beginning for me to go with him. But the moment he said 'throw it all away' in relation to my wealth, I knew I had entered the trial of my guilt. That and the insane expression in his eyes. That had shocked me to the core. What had happened to that innocent boy that had caused such a reaction? And what had happened to his brother, the one who had his back and knew how to read his more sensitive reactions and put them into words? The insanity put a stop to any questions I had. He asked me, as we were leaving, if any others of the crew had survived, I said no. I did not miss the strange haunted relief and furious anger, which swept across his face before he could conceal it again. I felt the intense rage for a second, then he smiled brightly again, and I realised that for an instant I had been within the hand of death.

I learned, during my time of travelling with Knives, of the existence of that brother of his. Vash was a peculiar creature, much like his brother in his subtle non-human nature. He'd become a wandering gunman, elusive yet somehow where he was needed. From the tests Knives asked me to run, and the analysis we did on his own body I gained an insight into how they operated as distinct from humans. For starters, they had a great power at their disposal and with that a peculiar empathic ability to touch minds and the world around them. I suspect that it was this that drew Vash to the places of greatest need to assist the struggling people, just as it drew Knives to the places he could best exploit. That greater awareness and existence in the world, as it were, fascinated me. I would have been eager for more research if I did not have the twin burdens of Tessla and Knives's insanity hanging over me like the sword of Damocles. As such, I kept a business relationship with Knives, I knew my place as his pet researcher and never ventured to push him, I allowed him the lead. In retrospect this was a mistake, but a mistake that allowed me to live, had I challenged him or in any way contradicted his authority I'd be dead. He was a murderer. At first I had thought him a psychopath, but as I watched his actions, I realised that there was something within him, something deep hurt and broken. If he could feel that, and cover it with the great evil with which he lashed out at the world, then he still had a very slim chance of redemption. I had my money on his brother.

I never knew what a disappointment that would be. Or how bitter it would be, but I knew the talents of the brothers, and knew how to school myself into calm. Knives had put out the rumour that I, Count Revnant Vasquez, was alive and an even more subtle hint that I was Crewman Bill Conrad. Yes, I had in my taste for the finer things, acquired a noble title to suit my station in life. It had served me well, until Knives had come. However, I was pleased for Knives to spread this about, for I too hoped to meet with Vash. I wanted to know how the other brother had fared in this god-forsaken world, and if that hope of redemption was real. And Vash had come, it had taken him three years, he was a bit of a dreamer and easily distracted by the hardships of human lives, but he had arrived on my doorstep. Only, Knives had approached his brother in an even more aggressive nature than he had approached me.

It was then that I realised that Knives had a stark awareness of how frail humans were. He only exposed me to the amount of power I could handle, as he held nothing back with his brother. But what he forgot, or chose not to remember, was that he had had years of the both of us working carefully through his abilities, and testing things out. He turned to his brother with all that knowledge and expected him to simply go along with it. When Vash first protested, bewildered and understandably afraid, Knives simply knocked him unconscious. He dragged him down the stairs for me to check his 'gate' potential. What neither of us expected was how badly scarred he was. I knew what life as a gunman must be, and that both of these plants had lived and fought their way through the past hundred and fifty years, even then the evidence was horrific. I knew enough to understand that on any human some were mortal wounds, yet somehow he had survived. Knives paled until his face was almost green with shock. I had to keep a cool head and went about going through the motions of placing the monitors all over him. It took Knives a full five minutes to come out of shock. My hope for redemption strengthened then, he loved his brother, despite his treatment of him. The next shock for Knives, and I must admit for myself too, was the magnitude of the gate. Vash simply possessed more power than anything on this world, and that included Knives. I watched as Knives checked the readouts that I had explained to him and hoped that this unconscious plant that lay between us possessed mercy as great as his power. And not only mercy, but love to balance it, for mercy alone can be cold.

I did not have the chance to see that. I was called away on legitimate business, plant engineer related. After realising that I would not run off, Knives had allowed me to keep the business up as long as I did what work he wished from me. After all I convinced him that it allowed me to tend to the welfare of plants. I did not say that it was the prospect of being poor and homeless that kept me going. I reconstructed the tale from the snippets I gained from Legato, he being closer to Knives than I. Knives had on occasion brought the waif with him, a strange boy with strange powers of his own and an almost worshipful devotion to him. More than once had sent the boy with me to keep an eye on me, he did so on this occasion. Legato was a quick study of human nature yet careless of it, he did not use it to charm his way into places, he used it to pick his targets. He had a penchant for death, but was so closely connected to Knives that I had only known him to kill at his masters bidding. It was Knives' suspicions of me that saved both Legato and I, and ultimately Knives himself.

Vash had awoken and had challenged Knives, pointed a gun at him. They had fought and again Knives had overwhelmed Vash with his power, only this time had coerced Vash into releasing his own. I saw the after effects of that. Legato and I piled out of the armoured car, on our return and stared. We were perhaps some of the first people there, fortunately. The entire city of July had been levelled. Legato cried for Knives and went running through the rubble and the wreckage, following that uncanny ability of his in knowing where people were. He found Knives bloodied and broken body and set up such a wailing it broke even my heart. I did not have much love for Knives, but his state was pitiful. Then Legato reared up and searched the ruins for another. I knew then that he was after Vash, should that other still be alive. If there was the slightest chance that Knives' brother had lived through this, I wanted him alive. I called sharply to Legato to help me, I would have need his talents. We could save Knives if we worked quickly. That focussed Legato onto his master to the exclusion of all else. We swiftly evacuated Knives' body and went to one of the lesser known of his hideouts, in fact I think that only Legato and I had been there. A ruined ship, with several plants still operational, yet no one had claimed it. It was very difficult to reach, but our car had limited hover capabilities, so we made it in under half an hour. We spent the next two weeks operating on Knives and discussing between us, who else we could trust to enter this sanctuary. We realised that without Knives we trusted no one. I left it up to Legato to suggest to Knives that he recruit those he could rely on in the future. That turned out to be yet another damned mistake of mine. I inadvertently allowed Legato to conceptualise the Gung Ho Guns.

With the entire city of July levelled, we entered a time of limbo. Knives woke on occasion, sometimes raving, most times lucid, but his body was broken beyond my ability to heal it. I did not have the courage to ask if his brother lived. There was something else broken in Knives, as if even he knew he had betrayed his brother, and was terrified that Vash would return from the grave to condemn him. He hid it, but I knew him better than most. I set up shop for a while in my home in May city, returning every weekend to monitor the progress on Knives. Legato despised me for this, but when he ran out of food, understood the necessity of contact with the outside world. The plants in the ship were solely required for Knives's life support. Legato took to wandering as the years passed and I learned then that he was buying and recruiting mercenaries with the money I gave him. But it kept him from trying to hunt Vash, or so I thought, so I let him have what money he needed.

Knives was a different story. In his lucid moments, it was clear he had turned his disgust and self-hatred at what he had done to Vash into further vehemence on his old enemies, the humans. Of which I was painfully aware I was one. I was glad for the weekly sojourns in May city, for it was here that I saw the first Wanted poster. $$60 billion for one Vash the Stampede. I have no idea how they pinned the destruction of the city on him. The only thing I can reason was that if he was as shell-shocked as I think he must have been, he probably wandered the ruins until they had caught him and pinned the crime to him. I showed the poster to Knives, thinking it would help. It did, in a way. He stared at it for a very long time, his face expressionless. He then began to laugh, with relief, remorse, or the strange mixture of feelings that accompany such reactions to fear and loathing I do not know. However, Knives gained a new determination then, a liveliness he had not shown in his former years.

He began to plan, and to plot with me as he had never done before, he wanted to be well again, to heal his body so he could walk the world again. The plan we settled on was completely insane, but one of those insanities which might just work. Our chosen place was Jeneora Rock, it was remote enough for our actions not to draw the authorities, and it had enough plants for us to take the use of one, and was overrun by thugs so we would not need to fight with the law. Legato had enough of an army by then to do things his way. The only problem we knew we would face was Vash; he would be drawn to the place. Knives explained he knew when his brother was up to anything momentous and assumed, bitterly, that his foolish brother would do the same. I had heard from Legato, that Knives had often massacred towns, only to encounter Vash who put a stop to it. They were drawn to each other. The more the years passed, the more I was ever relieved that Vash existed as Knives' counterfoil.

Jeneora Rock was a peculiar testing ground for all of us. My loyalty then was sorely tried. I watched as Legato's minions fell to Vash, and began to grow afraid, but knew that should he wish to take my life I would welcome a way out of this purgatory I now endured. Yet, when the time came and Vash found us, bloodied and missing his coat, he did not come for revenge. No, he came for his brother. Knives stood there naked, fully aware and fully functional and as insane as ever. I had had a small hope that the peculiar regeneration within a plant uterus would do something to alter his mind, but no. Then, just to show how little he had learned in his incarcerated state, Knives did the very same thing that ended him up immobile in the first place. He challenged Vash and activated his power. I had an inkling things were going badly south when he attacked Legato for sending the Gung Ho Guns after Vash, but never expected it to go so fast.

It was fortunate for Knives that I had my whole medical team with me to pick up his sorry arse and to scrape up what was left of Legato. Knives was too new to his body to have taken much damage, but he still ended up in several months of care and physical therapy to regain his former mobility. Legato was not so lucky. He was paralysed from the neck down, thanks to the actions of his master, and yet he still served him. I was sick to my gut of Knives, but knew that should I hint at turning I would be dead. It was cowardice in part that kept me with him, and to do what I could to protect Vash. For I knew now that only Vash had the power to stop him. A few of the other Gung Ho Guns had had an eyeful of what had happened, and were beginning to realise that they were not going to get out of this alive. I'll give Legato this, he did not recruit idiots. Yet, each move has a knock on effect. Knives kept Legato in control, Legato kept the Gung Ho Guns in line, each time any of them has a weakness and I contemplated euthanasia, I realised the potential destruction is too terrible if they are not alive. Every night that the fifth moon is visible I wonder where in the world his brother is, lost, drifting. The bewilderment and hurt I glimpsed in Vash's face made it clear that he did not remember what had happened in July, retrograde amnesia in a plant? It was frightening. It did not do my soul good to know how close to human they were in spite of their powers.

Then, finally, it came to a rather vulnerable request from Knives. He had been exploring the world a little more, and killing folk a little less. In fact, I think his attentions had shifted since emerging. Not that he was not still genocidal towards humans, he was, but he was more interested in plants. He had begun coming with me to visit power plant houses. I hated having him with me, but for the most part, he stood silent and watched. He would make a few suggestions after we left which I would try to put into action. He would never thank me when I did and I never reported back to him, but his demeanour on days that I had eased a plant's load made me realise that he could sense what I had done. This time, he took me through the innards of a ship reactor, which now supplied power to the city surrounding it. I felt my heart plummet when I saw the state of the plant he wished me to heal. The best, the very best, I could do was to ease her suffering at the end of life. I knew I could not explain to Knives that a swift death might be better than the lingering one he naively wished for her. However, the engineers that day must not have been able to sense their impending doom, as they chose that day, that moment while we were there to set the plant through her last run. Even Elendria, one of Legato's recruits and loyal companion to Knives, realised the announcement of a 'Last Run' was not good. Knives must have sensed the human's intent, but he did not move to leave. I watched the murder of a plant that day. I watched the murder of humans that day.

Knives turned to me, having spent his energy and rage and pain on execution. It was then I saw it, the one flaw in the plants, and felt a vast relief and hope for the human race. He had it too, this autonomous plant, his life was not immortal, the decay was beginning to eat at him also. I explained this to him, in hopes that he would begin to learn control, and perhaps stop running and confront the real reasons he lashed out so violently at people. One's own impending death tends to make people a little more reflective of their actions. Only, I had not calculated that Knives was not Knives alone. He was Knives, one of a twin set with Vash, and as recklessly as he lived he was somehow still deeply connected with his brother. In understanding his own weakness, he asked about Vash. When Elendria reported that Vash was in a worse position than Knives himself, Knives turned on me quicker than I knew to see it coming. As these last moments pass before my eyes, I realise that it is Vash on whom we must place our hope, only I had never accounted that his death might be the price of that hope. As for myself, as my life slips away, I am glad that the purgatory this side of life is over. I know that all I can only hope for in death is for many years of back breaking service before I see either heaven or hell. I did what I could in serving the most evil person in this world, trying to decrease the effect to aggravating, yet, I don't think I succeeded.


End file.
